Foyle's War To Love Another
by hazeleyes571
Summary: Christopher Foyle asks for advice from someone he trusts to tell him the truth.


Title: To Love Another.

Author: hazeleyes57.

Rating: T

Content: Foyle/ Sam (sort of).

Disclaimer: Characters from Foyle's War were created by Anthony Horowitz. No infringement is intended, no profit made. Just wishful thinking.

** To Love Another **

They met near the church as usual, their routine established long ago. The February weather was bright and crisp, but bitterly cold despite the sun.

The man was dressed in a thick wool coat, a pale scarf and a pair of gloves. He was still freezing. It was not the weather to be out in unless you were on your way somewhere, with your pace brisk enough to warm you.

Chief Superintendent Foyle was not pacing, though he felt like doing so. He felt a mixture of emotions swirl through him; happiness but guilt, reluctance but determination, and some regret that they had come to this. It wasn't her fault; she had done nothing wrong - it was he who had changed.

Her voice was soft and melodious, as if she were always on the verge of laughter.

"What is it, Christopher? What's troubling you so?"

Christopher Foyle walked over to a bench, knowing that she would follow. He sat down heavily and chose his words with care.

"I don't know how to tell you in a way that won't hurt one or both of us, but…I have met someone else."

The words hung heavily in the cold air, the accompanying little puffs of frosty breath fading quicker than they did.

She was silent, waiting for the rest.

"She…I…we didn't plan on this happening, but I confess, the first time I met her, I was stunned, there is no other word for it."

Foyle clasped his gloved hands together and looked at them, rather than anywhere else. He knew that he was avoiding looking at her, but he couldn't, not yet.

"Even then, I had no intention of following it up. The whole business was quite unacceptable. I tried to keep her at a distance, but it just wouldn't happen. Every step away that I took made me notice just how far she had got under my skin."

"I see."

Foyle smiled without mirth.

"Well, I'm glad someone does, because I couldn't see what was happening right under my nose until it was almost too late."

Her smile was rueful.

"For such a good detective, that is a terrible admission."

Foyle's smile had more humour in it this time.

"Imagine, if you will, how I feel?"

Her smile became gentle.

"We knew that this could happen to us one day. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

Foyle looked at the solid church walls. They had been there hundreds of years – how much sorrow and happiness had they witnessed?

"I'm not ashamed."

"But you're not happy, are you?"

Foyle watched a bird settle on a nearby gravestone. It pecked optimistically at nothing visible to Foyle's naked eye, and then suddenly flew away.

"I am happy. But I feel guilty, too. I don't want you to be hurt."

"Sweet Christopher, still taking it all on your own shoulders. It's up to me whether or not I choose to be hurt. I'm a big girl."

"Even so…"

"Very well. You are happy and guilty. Have you even told her how you feel about her yet?"

Foyle did look at her then. His eyebrows were raised in mild surprise.

"Of course. I wouldn't have come to you on the strength of a 'possible' or a 'maybe' situation."

"Does she love you?"

Foyle looked a little uncomfortable for a moment. She recognised the signs.

"Christopher? If you are going to pursue this course, you should be sure of your prize."

"She says that she does, but…"

When he didn't continue, she did it for him.

"But you're not sure if you believe her. Why the hesitation? Don't you love her?"

Foyle's smile was tender and a little wistful.

"Yes…yes, I'm sure that I do."

"Then you must doubt her."

Foyle shook his head in automatic protest.

"No, it's not doubt. I'm certain she loves me now, but I don't know how long that will last. She could do a lot better than me."

She did laugh then.

"Oh, pshaw! You're a fine catch."

It was his turn to smile ruefully.

"I was, once."

"And still are. She'd be mad to turn you away."

Foyle shrugged.

"Maybe so. Mad or sensible."

"Sensible? You don't need sensible; you are that enough for the both of you. You need someone fun, to lighten you up when you get too serious. Is she fun?"

Foyle smiled despite himself.

"Yes, she is fun. You'd like her."

"Hmm. Maybe. In other circumstances."

Foyle looked up at the subdued tone. All his guilt flooded back.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with this."

"If you can't talk to me, who can you talk to?"

"That's not the point…"

She looked him squarely in the eye.

"Yes, it is exactly the point. You came here to tell me that you had met someone else. Now you feel guilty but still need my blessing."

Foyle didn't answer. It had been a fair assessment; he did want an odd sort of permission.

She continued.

"Look, you said that you didn't want to hurt me or 'us', but be honest, it's you that's hurting the most. But you can't have it both ways, we can't carry on as before, it wouldn't be fair to anyone and you're not that sort of person. If this woman means so much to you – and it seems to me that she does – you are going to have to deal with 'us', and that means letting me go.

Foyle frowned. Was that what he wanted? He didn't think so, but she knew him better than most.

"I don't know that I can. What we have is special."

"I know what we _had_ was special. But that's not fair to expect her to share you. She would have to be very understanding."

Foyle smiled at the idea.

"She would try very hard to understand."

"What's so funny?"

Foyle stood up, moving to try to retain some warmth. He casually looked around the churchyard before answering.

"Not funny as such. Just that she would do her damnedest to understand. She throws all she is into everything. It's a quality I have come to admire."

"She sounds a lot like me."

Foyle nodded his head as he raised an eyebrow, a look she was very familiar with.

"Mmmn."

She grinned, almost against her wishes.

"Oh, go away. I should hate you but I can't. You'll have to go elsewhere for your absolution; I could grant it, but you wouldn't take it. This…" she waved a hand to encompass his world "…you will have to sort out for yourself."

Foyle knew the truth of her words, but it still hurt a little.

"Will I see you again?"

Her smile was wry.

"That's up to you, isn't it? I'll still be here."

Foyle wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her goodbye, but he did not. He didn't ever think that he could let her go completely, but he owed it to someone else to try.

"I love you."

"I know. I've always known. I love you too. Now go to her, and tell her that you love her, for as long or as little time you have together. Be happy, Christopher, you deserve it. I won't begrudge you that."

Foyle nodded once, then turned and walked away, back down the path.

She was waiting for him. Her nose was red and her face was pinched with the cold. He immediately felt bad to have been out so long.

"You should have waited in the car where it's warmer."

"Slightly above freezing inside, yes, I was, until I saw you come down the path. Are you all right?"

Foyle looked at her and smiled. He looked to her as if a weight had lifted from him, leaving him more relaxed and somehow younger.

"Never mind about me, get in the car and let's get home. I could do with a hot cup of tea."

"I think I know where there might be a spot of whiskey, too, if you've a mind to it."

Foyle gave a small grin as he looked at her.

"I knew there was a reason I loved you."

She grinned back.

"Oh, I don't need a reason."

Foyle held her arm before she could turn back to the car. Her smile was beautiful, but a little puzzled. In an unexpectedly intimate gesture he pulled her towards him and held her close.

"Neither do I, Sam, but I do, love you, I mean. I don't tell you it enough."

Sam looked surprised, then thoughtful. She glanced over his shoulder, towards the deserted churchyard.

"You show me often enough. Let's go home and warm up."

She returned the hug before they climbed into the front seats of the car. Sam started the engine, but didn't put the car into gear. She looked at her fiancé with compassion.

"I don't mind, you know. I didn't expect you to give her up; I don't need you to, either."

Foyle looked startled.

"What do you mean?"

Sam put the car in gear and they slowly pulled away.

"When the time is right for you, I'd like you to tell me about Rosalind."

The End.


End file.
